Game of the Gods

Chapter 1

I can't tell you that everything is perfect, it's far from it at this point, to be honest.
Now, this story may be long, but bare with me: It all started long ago. There were sixteen gods in all that ruled the heavens and the people below, the same people who made stories about them and lived so bent on the idea that their infinitely powerful gods were immortal. This one belief was false, however, very false indeed. While it may be true that the gods have long lives, they are not immortal and have certain... weaknesses, I think. So, to be prepared for this, all the gods decided that they need...let's say "successors" to take their place if and when they get killed...murdered, even. They gave their power to someone in a family, one person for every god(and if you're bad with math that's 16 people total), so that if the god dies someone in the chosen family will get their power.
My family was chosen by the goddess Apollonia, the light goddess. Currently, my father held the responsibility of being a successor, and because of that we had, say, a lot of benefits based on Dad's title. I was born into a royal family, had a silver spoon dangling out of my mouth before I was even born, servants who already worshipped me and my relatives, and a relatively functional family(if I do say so myself) just to name a few. It was a replica of paradise, the epitome of perfection. Everything was fine and peaceful, just like it had to be. Everything was good. 
Was. 

"Lord Mark! Lord Mark, it's time to wake up and train with your family." said my butler, Gunter from just outside my room. He is a rather tall man, spritely and lean and very energetic. White hair, even though he's around my age, pale complexion, and big, ocean blue eyes that served as a second sky. He tapped his knuckles against my door, repeating my name over and over and over again as though he were a human alarm clock.  

I don't respond and continue to sleep, yawning and turning away from the closed entrance. Gunter must have been worried or impatient at the long time it took for a response, so without warning the servant barges into my room with a disapproving face.

"Milord. It's time to wa--wa...!"

He sees me sprawled on the bed with a...um...let's say it wasn't a very pretty sight...for some people.

"Gunter! Get out!" I yell, throwing a pillow as I sit up and pull the covers over myself in pure embarrassment. Gods, I always, always, always have to remind him to knock and ask permission to come in like all the other freaking servants are supposed to do.

"I-I-I  am so sorry m'lord. You just weren't waking up, so I... please forgive me." He says, bowing as he tries to exit with the last bit of grace he has.

"Ugh! What a great way to start the morning!" I yelled behind him, burying everything under blankets and silk covers. 

So, I finally get out of bed and put on my armor, checking the polish and sword before I cross to the other side of my bedroom. I look at the picture of Lizzy I have on a nearby table, her face perfectly centered in the glass frame. She's my future wife, to be married when we're both "of age" or something like that. My father arranged it so that the royal families join together and share the wealth and fame, possibly to even create a next successor, a stronger one, maybe. There's just one problem though. You'll know soon enough, promise.
When I leave the room, Gunter is waiting there for me, bowing respectfully(the one thing he actually does right) as he tries to hide his perfectly red face. He's blushing so much he looks like a tomato.

"M'lord, I apologize again for this incident." he says, bowing even further, if that was even possible. He tilted his face up a bit, some of the red tinge in his cheeks growing brighter. "But if I may say one thing...?" he asks, blushing so intensely he looked like a flame.

"No worries, so what is it?" I permission, give him a nonchalant toss of the hand for him to continue.

"Well...um...not bad." He says with a cheeky smile.

"Ugh! Gunter!" I say, my hand up to my flustered face in mere moments as Gunter stood with perfect carelessness. Lord, how he gets over these things so quickly is beyond me.

"Shall we be going?" He asks, extending his arm down the hallway.

"Yes." I reply, already starting down the corridor to get away. "I hope I haven't kept them waiting for too long."
"Of course, m'lord."

The thing about Gunter and me is that we're kind of like brothers in a way, I mean, we've been together since we were both kids, before he was even given an official job at our palace. We're very close and we joke around most of the time, but he still is a really good butler(even with his, um, faults). Gunter is only about five years older than me, so Father thought that he'd make a good companion on the side--since most of the other servants were much older or female. So far it's worked out in all our favors.

We finally make it to the training hall, standing at the doorway and waiting for my father to welcome us in, like we're supposed to. My father is kneeling at a photo of my mother, probably paying his respects, when he realizes we are standing there waiting for his attention.

"Oh! I'm sorry Mark." he says, crossing the room to greet me. I meet him halfway, my armor clinking while I jog over to him. I ready my shield and blade, cueing him to start the lesson and skip the polite banter. My father sighs happily, hand at his hilt. "Shall we begin?" he asks, unsheathing his sword.

"Yes, sir."